You're Not Alone
by Jalaperilo
Summary: Even though we've all apart this season, we're still together in our sparks. A seasonal fic.


A/N: Commentary at jalaperilo(DOT)livejournal(DOT)com (replace the (DOT)'s with actual full stop. I know you're all not stupid, but just making sure, lol). Eve of Ages is completely fictitious. Extensive mentions of the canon short story "The Magnificent Six" by Simon 'who can I kill off ?' Furman. Read it, love it, and be horrified. Can't find it? I may be persuaded to rapidshare it. Also mention of a storyline I have yet to do, so I kept if very vague.

O o O o O o O o O

You're Not Alone

It was Eve of Ages. A holy night that came once every vorn, in which the Cybertronians offer prayers and thanks to Primus. A time of reflection, a sombre coming together of loved ones. A night to spend with family, even in the middle of a war.

Three figures sat around a small halogen lamp. Upon the thin brushed metal stand, the small, shimmering light cast a dim blue glow over the room, bathing the occupants in its light. The lamp stand sat on a small metallic plinth on the floor. They had decided to use Ratchet's berthroom for their evening together, as Perceptor was using his and Wheeljack's berthroom and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were still in barrack.

It was another Eve of Ages they wouldn't be spending together though. Sideswipe had hoped that Sunstreaker's unit would have been pulled out by now, since the southern garrison on the border of Kalis had been bombarded with heavy fire for the past few orns. It was a key strategic point for the Autobots, which was one of the reasons command were dragging their heels in sounding a retreat and setting up the line further back. Sideswipe had been due to be stationed there as back up earlier that orn, but it was nearly impossible to move anyone in or out until the fire fight relented. He had been looking forward to fighting next to Sunstreaker again. Nothing said brotherly bonding to them more than slagging Decepticons.

And so, Ratchet, Wheeljack and Sideswipe found themselves safely in Iacon for the offcycle, spending the cycle together as they always tried to do. They had had their energon as the offcycle began, the cubes now discarded on the small desk shoved to one side to make room for them all to sit on the floor. They spoke low, whispering, sharing memories and stories.

Ratchet was the first one to approach the lamp. He shuffled forward till he was knelt in front of it, his hands open and placed either side of the glowing light, palms facing it. He bowed his head and began his private prayers, the ones that were for him alone to know. He rarely had private prayers, but this time he had two. He asked for the strength to continue on, to not fall again, to live up to the faith the others had placed in him. He prayed for Sunstreaker and Wheeljack to find peace. Ratchet didn't know how much Sideswipe knew about the incident, but he had been told part of what had happened in Stanix. He was sure that he didn't know the whole story. He gave a silent prayer, because to give voice to it, when both Sunstreaker and Wheeljack were still unable to come to terms with what happened, would be a betrayal of their trust.

"I pray for Sunstreaker, keep him safe until he is back with us. I pray for our race, may we one day know peace again. I pray for all the souls we lose, guide them to the matrix and keep them safe, till all are one. I pray for Wheeljack. I pray for Sideswipe," Ratchet whispered, head bowed and optics off line. Each prayer was ended with a prayer for those present. He remained motionless for a moment before he lowered his hands and shuffled backwards until he reached the wall he had previously been leaning against.

Next was Wheeljack. He moved towards the candle and took the same position. His silent prayer was for Stampede, for forgiveness, for the other four, for the neutralists. He prayed for the day when he would meet them all, and that he would have the courage to face them.

"I pray for Sunstreaker, that we once more meet. I pray that we have the courage to continue on the paths we choose, I pray we do not fall, I pray for our similarities and our differences and the ability to reconcile them. I pray for Ratchet. I pray for Sideswipe."

Next was Sideswipe. He assumed the position and lowered his head. As with Ratchet, he rarely had any private prayers, always opting to share with those he considered his family.

"I pray for Sunny. I pray he can stand against the forces he faces. I pray that he remains safe. I pray he finds peace in his spark away from the darkness that threatens to consume him. I pray he never forgets his real self. I pray for his half of our spark. I pray for my half, that it may share the burdens he carries as well as the joys. I pray that we all remain together. I pray for the end of the fighting, I pray for the last day. I pray for Ratchet. I pray for Wheeljack."

The lamp continued to burn as they sat back, facing each other in silence, all contemplating the prayers that had been spoken.

"Shall I play it?" Sideswipe asked quietly, lifting up the vidipad he had subspaced that day at mail call. As they had all agreed, if one of them was away, they would record a quick message for the others. As resources and manpower dwindled stellacycle after stellacycle, it had become increasingly hard for long distance transmission to be sent without being intercepted. Still, Sunstreaker had managed to get an audio recording back to Iacon in time.

"Sure," Wheeljack replied. Sideswipe pressed the play button. There were a few moments of white noise before the transmission started which still had a lot of static over it. In the distance, the sounds of voices, rumbling and explosions echoed through, but were temporarily overcome by a deep, haughty voice.

"_Hope you slaggers are having a nice time. I can't say the same for us. Eleven cycle without recharge and counting. Those exhaust-sucking deceptijerks seemed to have something stuck up their drive shafts and have been bombarding us for three cycles in a row without let up. Not that I can't handle it, being the best one out here and all, but I wasn't even here a joor before my paint was nicked. And not even by those factory rejects. Primus pit spawned new recruit, can't hold a rifle right. I've got so many marks and dents I look almost as bad as you Sides. Sucks that your unit can't be bothered to come join us, could have used some more cannon fodder, since that's all you're group is good for._

"_Don't worry, we're still holding the line thanks to me. I slagged four D's yesterday. I still say we should go on the offensive, but Ironhide wants to just hold the fort. Chromia was up for it, but it was three against twelve in the end. Cowards. Can't believe Tracks was the only other one to vote with us. Mech's got ball bearings, I'll give him that._

"_Anyway, I'd best go. Primus knows how they cope when I'm not there covering their afts. I'll do it properly on Eve, but I pray for Sideswipe, I pray for Wheeljack and I pray for Ratchet." _

There was a short silence before a hurried 'bye' was said and the recording turned off.

"Well, he seems to be in high spirits," Ratchet said, an amused smirk on his lips.

"Is it too late to pray that his ego deflates soon?" Sideswipe said, shifting slightly to lie on his back on the floor, stretching his limbs out.

"I thought you knew better than to pray for miracles," Wheeljack said softly, fins flashing in the dimly lit room and poking Sideswipe's knee. The twin shifted his knee away from the inventor and sigh in mock exasperation. He crossed his legs at his ankles.

"I'm starting to think it's not a coincidence that the four of us are never together for Eve of Ages," the red twin said, interlacing his digits and pillowing his helm and staring at the ceiling.

"Are you accusing a certain someone of fiddling the duty rota to honk you off?" Ratchet asked, optic ridge raised at the twin. He knew the twin was peeved that he was separated from Sunstreaker, especially on this cycle, but he was beginning to try to place blame, to give his anger a direction. The red mech sighed and began to shake his right foot.

"No, I know it's not intentional, cause Jazz and Bluestreak would be in Iacon if he was fiddling it, I guess. Still, I think we deserve at least one slagging Eve together. I'm definitely demanding that me and Sunny are put in the same squadron from now on. By the way, I'm spending the night here. Can't be bothered with the barracks tonight," Sideswipe said, turning on his side to face the other two. Ratchet just sighed and shrugged.

"Are you staying too?" he asked Wheeljack.

"If there's enough floor for me," the inventor said, lighting his fins and smirking. He shuffled himself backwards until he reached was leaning against the wall. With that decided, the three fell back into a shared silence, only once or twice murmuring fragments of conversations until they finally initiated.

O o O o O o O o O

It had been two groons since the bombardment had finally ceased. Not long after the off cycle had begun the heavy artillery had fallen silence and the air strikes had come to an end. It had taken them almost a breem to realise the constant blast of sound that shook their garrison had subdued.

The silence afterwards had unnerved Sunstreaker. The six of them stationed at the south east barricade had kept their battle stance for four breems before Chromia dared to fall out and check. Sure enough, the Decepticons had pulled back slightly, out of firing range. After a quick discussion with Ironhide, the squadron leader, she decided that the Decepticons would hold fire until the oncycle and that they should stand down. Sunstreaker was fragged off that the only way they had peace on Eve of Ages was because the Cons said so. It made his want to go out there and drag them back to the battle lines.

Sentry duties were draw up quickly for the night, to allow the unit to rest, even if it was for less than a joor. That was where Sunstreaker found himself, in the middle of the supposed celebration. He checked his internal chronometer. It was three clicks until his brother and the others would start their prayers. They set a time so that they could think of each other while they prayed. Maybe even simultaneously offer their prayers.

He looked down at himself, peeling a fleck of paint off of his chest. He still remembered the argument he and Chromia had had with Ironhide about changing tactics. He wouldn't even entertain the idea of submitting it to high command. They had all taken a brutal beating this last orn. He wondered why Prime just didn't order the retreat, seeing as the Cons were trying their hardest to drive them back and the Autobot commanders didn't want to move forward.

He heard footsteps to his side and turned to be greeted by Trailbreaker emerging from the ladder that led up to the sentry tower. The large black Autobot held up a hand in greeting. Sunstreaker nodded once before turning back to the horizon. The dark expanse of the outer lands had a horrifying stillness about them.

"How's the watch?" Trailbreaker asked, standing next to the yellow twin and looking out at the same expanse. Sunstreaker wondered if he saw the same thing as the other mech, or if he had different opinions of this Primus forsaken region.

"Quiet. No doubt it won't last long," he rumbled in reply. He wished that the other mech would leave so that he could think. Sadly, he seemed to be staying.

"If you want to take a breem's break, I'll cover you," Trailbreaker said, still looking outwards. Sunstreaker turned to him. He hadn't noticed before, but he had his weapon out and ready. He gazed long and hard at the other's helm before he nodded fractionally. He turned and made his way down from the tower. At the base he subspaced his rifle. Looking around, he saw no one else in the vicinity. He knelt down next to one of the tower's legs. Sitting back on his pedes he held his palms in his lap and closed his optics. It was three clicks since the others had started.

_I pray for Prowl, Jazz, Wheeljack and Inferno. I pray that their shame is less than my own. I pray for Stampede, who suffered more than all of us. I pray for my brother, that he one day realises that he _is_ acknowledged by everyone for who he is, not just the prankster trying to prove himself. I pray that Ratchet finds himself again, and doesn't throw it all away. I pray that this war will end. I pray that once it ends, we'll remember how to live in peace. I pray that you wash away the blood that stains us all._

Sunstreaker remained knelt as he let the calmness of the moment wash over his spark. For a moment he allowed himself to forget everything. The war, his mangled paint job, the two Autobots that had been killed that cycle, the shame, the anger, Ironhide and his stubborn aft, the garrison, everything.

He sighed deeply, rising to his feet in one fluid movement. Scowl firmly back in place and rifle back in his hand, he climbed back up to the look out. Trailbreaker turned to him, offering a small smile and a nod as he finally walked past and left. Sunstreaker nodded a thanks and turned back to watch the expanse.

Truth be told, he could have offered his prayers while on look out. It probably wouldn't have bothered him if he had, but the simple gesture had meant a lot to him, even if he couldn't voice that feeling. He'd just have to make sure he looked out for the black Autobot in the future.

A distant noise and a blip on his sensor net pulled him from his thoughts. The speed and angle suggested that they were airborne and heading straight for them. His optics picked out a tiny movement in the sky, near the horizon. He growled to himself. Not even a full offcycle, maybe the Decepticons didn't think much of the holiday after all.

"Sunstreaker to Ironhide, we have possible hostiles heading this way from the southeast. I think Acid Storm and his misfires are back for a second dance," he radioed quickly, rifle already armed as he kept scanning.

"Confirmed hostiles, six tetra jets heading this way," Windcharger's voice sounded over the battlenet as it was activated. He had been on comms, which had better scanners that any mech could carry.

The channel exploded to life as everyone was mobilised. Sunstreaker sighed as he began once again descended the ladders ready to take up his position on the south side and said one final prayer, for the fortifications to continue to protect them all.

End

O o O o O o O o O

I hope you all have a happy seasonal holiday! Thank you for the support and may peace be with you.


End file.
